


Everything’s Meant to be Broken

by Smooth_Real_Cha_Cha



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Basically Inej is the Bastard of the Barrel, Basically a what-if? AU, Because that’s totally a Kanej song, F/F, F/M, M/M, Slow Burn, Title is from Iris by the GooGoo Dolls, all of the characters had their backstories swapped, i just really wanted Inej to go apeshit, reverse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smooth_Real_Cha_Cha/pseuds/Smooth_Real_Cha_Cha
Summary: Four years ago, the Menagerie burned down and Inej Ghana died. Three years later, and the Wraith became the living legend of the Barrel as the greatest thief of secrets Ketterdam has ever seen. They called her the Shadow of the Barrel, and no one knew where she came from or who she was, only that she was dangerous.Kaz Brekker had nothing and no one, only the tools in his hands and the name Jakob Hertzoon carved into his heart. When the Wraith came to his cell offering information and a chance at revenge, he never could’ve guessed where his path would lead.
Relationships: Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Matthias Helvar/Nina Zenik
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Everything’s Meant to be Broken

Prologue

Inej:

Inej couldn’t remember when anyone had gotten close enough to touch her. Perhaps that was why that boy had made such an impression.

She was sure she had been touched at the Menagerie, but maybe the last time anyone had dared to touch her had been in the brutal whirlwind of violence that had been the months following her escape. Either way, for years no one had touched her. No one had dared. She was the Wraith, and anyone who tried would be losing an arm, or worse. So it was an understatement to say she was shocked when she felt a hand touch her shoulder, the cool fabric of leather gloves brushing against her jacket.

The touch was gentle, nothing rough and demanding in its light grasp, but it was enough to make Inej’s senses go wild. She spun, knocking the grey-clad boy off his feet and slamming him into the stone-brick wall of the prison waiting area, pressing a knife against his throat before he could utter a yelp of surprise.

No one got the better of the Wraith. No one snuck up on the Wraith, especially in a room that was double-locked by Schulylers and far away from the main cells. Inej’s hand twitched, her eyes focused on the boy’s dark hair, his strange black-gloved hands, his bitter-brown eyes. He was interesting, but perhaps not quite interesting enough to satiate the rage fueling her at the thought that this boy could’ve surprised her, might’ve succeeded in trapping her—

“I— I can help you…” the boy was worried, Inej noticed, but not scared. There was a faint sheen of sweat on his brow, but his eyes weren’t focused on Inej’s knife, but instead, on the small part of her forearm where her ruby-colored sleeve had rolled up. He was focused, with that profound expression of disgust and panic carved onto his face, on the spot where the skin of her arm gently brushed his neck.

Perhaps it was that that made her let him go, that forced her to blend herself in with the shadows of the prison and escape back to the Slat. That expression he wore on his face—- he wasn’t scared of her knives or her reputation. He was the first person she had met to be disgusted by the brush of her skin against his, the soft bronze skin that has caused her to be bought and sold like a wild animal. The boy— Kaz, she later found out—- was interesting, but more than that, he was a kindred spirit. And the Dregs were always looking for more manpower.

So she had bribed and threatened and extorted the right people, and soon a file containing the many interesting crimes of one Kaz Brekker was on her desk. This was his second arrest, this time on much more serious charges. The first time had been a simple pickpocketing job gone wrong, some merch who had thrown an 11 year old boy in prison for trying to take a few kruge off of him.

But as for the second—- Inej let out a low whistle as she examined the charges against this boy. Robbery, assault and battery, and a triple count of first degree murder; it was a minor miracle Kaz Brekker hadn’t hung for his crimes. She felt a short-lived pant of sympathy for the boy. He couldn’t be older than 17.

Then she read the details of the last of his murders, the slow torture Brekker had inflicted on his target. He had chopped off the fingers of a man— a boy really, barely over 20– and shoved what was later found to be the wind-up spring for a mechanical toy through his throat, eyes and gut. It had vengeance written all over it.

_“That’s the way.”_ Inej thought, even as the faint stirrings of disgust crept their way across her features. “ _There’s always something somebody wants, or needs, or is afraid of. If you have it, you can control anything— or anyone.”_ She had learned that lesson the hard way in the Menagerie.

But she knew Kaz Brekker wanted something— he had asked for her help. Everyone in the Barrel, from the biggest bosses to the poorest pisspot cleaner, knew the Wraith wasn’t one for charity. If you wanted something, you bartered. Quid pro Quo, and never something for nothing. _“I can help you.”_ The only words he had ever spoken to her, and yet she felt as if he had spoken so much more. The wheels in her head were already turning. “Kaz Brekker—“ she turned the words over in her mouth. They didn’t feel right, exactly, but they had a place there. She glanced back down at the file. “Let’s find out what makes you tick.” 

When Inej walked into the prison for the second time in a week, stares followed her. Everything in Ketterdam leaked, metaphorically and psychically, and the prison was no exception. Gossip flowed like the rushing waters of the canals on a stormy day, and she could see both guards and prisoners alike turn their heads to watch her. She knew she cut as much of an imposing figure as a tiny Suli girl clad in brightly colored cloth and a jeweled choker could in a prison full of hardened criminals, but there was a reason people called her the Wraith, the shadow of the Barrel. No one questioned her or crossed her, at least if they liked their entrails in their insides.

“I would like to see Kaz Brekker.” He voice was clear, commanding. The guards led her to him without protest. She knew she could’ve simply slipped her way into the prison, found Brekker’s cell and asked him there, but she had wanted to test how far her confidence and reputation could get her. Credibility could only get you so far when you were a barrel thug with hands dirtier than canal sludge, but Inej intended to use every bit of her influence to get where she wanted.

She was led into a cell block area, then up a flight of stairs.

“Boy got himself locked in solitary confinement.” The guard who she had selected to guide her said, noticing Inej’s stare. “He was brawling when we weren't supposed to, knocked his cellmate’s teeth out of his mouth.”   
Inej whistled. “Temper?” She asked, with barely a glance in the guard’s direction. She wasn’t surprised the guard was informing her. People seemed to love dropping information in her lap— either because they thought they might be rewarded, or because they weren’t looking to get on her bad side. From the greedy look in the guard’s eyes, he was the former.

The guard nodded a little too quickly, his eyes unfocused. If he thought she was going to do him any favors, he was sorely mistaken, but she wasn’t going to tell him that just yet.

“He’s barely gone a week without a fight since he’s gotten in here.”

“And how long has he been in here?” They were crossing another hallway, then climbing another set of stairs. Inej suspected they were heading to the top floor of the prison. The guard scratched the few scraggly whiskers on his chin.

“I’d have to say 2 months. Ahh, here we go.” He gestured to a cell set into the far wall. “I’ll— would you like me to keep watch?”

“No thank you.” Inej said curtly. “Would you mind handing the keys over so I may go inside?”

The guard shifted uneasy. “I— I might get in trouble if I request another set from the warden. Can’t I just unlock it?”

Inej smiled, and patted the guard on the shoulder. She knew there was there was little warmth behind her grin, and the guard seemed to notice too, judging by his own slipping smile.

“Sure. And I’ll just go ahead and inform your wife that you’ve been sleeping with your neighbor every time she visits her sister in the country, yes? And should I tell your warden you’ve been extorting your fellow guards for money? Maybe it’s better if you just leave the keys with me, Mister Devlan, who lives in apartment number 3 on Ghentsborough? Or would you like to try my patience further?” The man’s expression froze in a shock of horror. Inej almost laughed. He had a terrible poker face.

He dropped the keys into her waiting hands, and hurried off. From behind the cell she heard a low chuckle. Inej gave herself the briefest moment to smile, then schooled her features and unlocked the cell.

The boy— Brekker, sat on a cot on the floor. He was smiling, but there was little mirth in his eyes.

“I can help you.” She said, her voice steady. She stared into the boy’s bitter coffee-colored eyes. “So, what business?”

Brekker smiled. “You are the Wraith, yes?” He was certainly Kerch, but his deep, rough-hewn voice held a certain twang that made her suspect he was not originally from the city. His body was lean, ropy cords of muscle. Farm-born then, but not a recent addition to the city. His exposed arms were bare of any tattoos, and he still wore those strange black gloves, though Inej had started to suspect their purpose.

“You are good at concealing your presence.” Inej said, giving Brekker what she hoped would be interpreted as a cursory glance. “And you can pick locks, I presume?”

Brekker smiled. “Is this a job application? I forgot my resume. Yes, I can pick locks, but I doubt I’m as good at blending into the shadows as you. I can however—” Brekker reached into his pants pocket and drew out the ornate dagger she kept in a sheath strapped under her shirt sleeve. “Do this.”

Inej stared. “When did you—“

“When you visited, a few days ago. Did you not notice?”

She hadn’t. She reached into her sheath and pulled out another knife, this one dull and unadorned. Brekker must have switched it during their altercation. How had she not noticed the weight difference?

“I hadn’t had use for that one.” She said mildly, as he passed her dagger back to her. She ignored the relief that flooded her when she felt its solid weight in her hands. “And yes, this is a job application, if you would like it to be.”

The faintest hint of surprise shone on Brekker’s face. “I’m not looking to join a gang. I’m looking for information.”

Inej leaned against the stone wall and crossed her legs. “Then what business?” 

“I need you to find information on a man for me.”

Inej nodded. “Simple enough. What can you give me in return?”

“I have twenty five thousand kruge stored away. If you find where he’s hiding, the money’s yours.”

Inej considered it. The money was promising, but then again, so was Kaz Brekker. “Could I convince you to join the Dregs instead?”

Kaz raised a brow. “I’m worth that much?”

Inej huffed. “Not yet— but you have skills. Useful in a gang. I also know you’re practically a money-printing machine when it comes to card games. You could be an—- extremely useful investment.”

An investment. That’s not quite what Tante Heleen had once called her, but it was close enough that the words stung coming out of her mouth. She had tried to turn everything Heleen had done to her into her own strength, dressing the jewel toned colors and vapid jewelry of the flashiest of the barrel bosses even when she crept along rooftops and hid among shadows. She was the Wraith, strongest Lieutenant of the Dregs and the shadow of the Barrel, not the shivering girl she had once been. She didn’t want to own anyone, but she wasn’t above using people— using Kaz Brekker. So why did she feel a twinge of guilt when she said those words?

Kaz turned his head away from her. “No thanks. I’m not here to join some makeshift family. I’ll just pay you, thank you very much.”

“The Dregs could get you out of prison—“

“I,” Kaz cut her off. “Can get myself out of prison. I’m here because I let myself be caught. This place has secrets I can only know from the inside.”

Inej chuckled. “Are you sure? Alright then Kaz Brekker. You’ve named your price, now who’s your man?”

Brekker sat up straighter. “I’m looking for any information on a man named Jakob Hertzoon, as well as any connections he might have to a gang, guild, or other organization. I’m— I’m not sure that’s his real name, but I can describe his appearance and other identifiers if need be.”

Inej started to laugh.

“Oi!” Brekker was beginning to work himself up, Inej could see it in his features. “What the hell is so funny!”

_“So that’s the temper that’s kept him locked up in solitary confinement”_ Inej thought. She held up a hand, still chucking. “Ha— you may find more of a boon by signing with the Dregs after all, Brekker. I know exactly where to find your man, but your noble quest isn’t as easy as you think.”

She had Kaz’s attention now, she could see the excited flicker of violence in his dark eyes. “You already know who he is? Where is he?”

“One question first.” Inej said, holding up a slender finger. “Why do you want to go after Hertzoon? Because I promise you, if your answer isn’t good enough, I’ll leave you here in this cell and you can squander your money on a different spider.”

Kaz’s eyes flickered with anger. “You—“

“I,” Inej interrupted him. “Am striking you a deal, not digging your grave. You want information? You better make sure it’s worth my time.”

Kaz cleared his throat, that dark flash of anger still burning bright in his eyes. “Hertzoon stole every penny me and my brother had. He left us to starve on the streets of this god-forsaken city. He killed both of us. I was just the only one to rise from the dead. His life belongs to me.” 

Inej was struck with understanding. This merciless boy and her were kindred spirits, flames of hatred that could not be extinguished.

“ _Hertzoon killed the both of us._ ” He had said. She and this boy were both demons, things that had clawed from some dark crack in the Ketterdam cobblestone. She almost wanted to reach out, almost wanted to say: “ _You died on these streets, and I died in the hold of a slaver’s ship, but we both haunt this city, so let’s make them pay._ ”

Instead she said. “The man you are looking for is Pekka Rollins.”

Kaz’s eyes widened. “The leader of the Dime Lions?”

Inej nodded. “Our goals would both be easier solved if we work together. You help me— help the Dregs, and I help you dismantle Rollins’s empire. You can keep your kruge for if this all goes bottom-up. Or if you want to rent a nice house on Zelverstraat.”

Kaz’s eyes narrowed. “And how do I know this isn’t a con to get my help? How do I know you aren’t gonna just take my skills and my kruge and drop me in some street corner when you’re done. What’s my guarantee that Rollins is Hertzoon, even?”

Inej considered Kaz Brekker for a quiet moment. Someone had twisted a knife deep into his heart, and the wound hadn’t quite healed over. She was once again struck with the certainty that this boy and her were far too similar.

“I can prove to you that your man is Rollins. But as for the rest— well I might just do that. I’m a ruthless woman, Kaz Brekker. But you knew that when you accepted my help. As long as you are useful, you will be used, and you may use us. So stay useful.”

It was better that way, to tell him the terrible truth, instead of some lovely lie. The Wraith had always dealt in truths.

Kaz’s lips pulled back into a thin smile. “You make an interesting proposal, Wraith.”

“Good.” Inej said. “I’ve already paid the fees needed to get you out. We’re leaving.”

Kaz’s eyes widened. “You paid them off without knowing I’d say yes?”

Inej smiled, letting that dark shadow the Barrel feared so much creep into her features. “I knew I’d get you to join as soon as soon as I walked into this building. Or did you think I just happened to know all of Rollins’ pseudonyms?”

Kaz’s brow furrowed. “I—You—“

But Inej was already walking out the cell door, her brightly colored coat swaying with her movements. “I’m the Wraith, Kaz Brekker. If there is something to know, then I know it. Now come on. We’re wasting daylight. Let’s get you out of here.”


End file.
